Page 6 of Such Persuasions as These (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER FIVE

I t fell now upon the ladies of Longbourn to call upon the ladies of Netherfield Park. Darcy understood that Mrs Bennet had five daughters, but only the three eldest accompanied her this morning.

The intriguing Miss Elizabeth and her motives had crossed his mind several times in the days since they had met and laughed together, and he still could not decide whether to trust her fully.

If she had heard his insult of her person, why would she not rejoice in his downfall at Mr Harper’s hand?

Could anyone truly be so good, so innately forgiving?

He could not help but think of others he had known who had offered a convincing appearance of goodness while concealing rottenness to the bones.

Miss Bingley had been standing near his desk and observing him with a steady stream of compliments and interruptions as he had attempted to compose a letter to Georgiana.

Darcy stood from his chair as the ladies entered the drawing room and took two long strides towards the visitors, relieved to be freed from Miss Bingley’s unwelcome nearness.

A bolt of pain shot through his thigh upon rising, but he reckoned it was worth it to gain some breathing room.

Before Miss Bingley could receive her guests, her brother bounded towards the ladies with voluble delight.

“Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, you are very welcome,” said he, his eyes bright as they rested upon the handsome eldest Bennet daughter. Darcy cleared his throat. “And Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, you are welcome, too,” Bingley added after himself with a bow.

Is that a smile playing upon Miss Elizabeth’s face? He was reminded of her father, whose first object in life was a joke. Was she here only to observe their foibles and render them ridiculous?

“Might I introduce you to my sister, Mrs Louisa Hurst?” Bingley asked, indicating his eldest sister with a flourish of his hand.

Mrs Hurst stepped forwards and nodded unsmilingly as acknowledgments were made.

Her husband was introduced as well, bowing from his place in front of the settee on which he had nodded off after breakfast.

Mr Bingley did not appear to notice his sisters’ aloofness. “How fortunate that Darcy and I had not yet begun our tour of the estate,” Bingley said before turning to him. “Never again shall I reproach you for the excessive length of your correspondence.”

Darcy, too, was glad they had not yet set out, for he did not believe the Longbourn party would have been so warmly received had he and Bingley been absent.

“He has much to say in letters, does he? It is a shame he is not so loquacious in person,” Miss Elizabeth said, flashing him a sweet smile.

He met it only with a curt nod of his head.

He would not encourage her familiarity, for he was not sure he desired her to think them friends.

He could feel his brow furrowing as she blinked at him, no doubt taken aback by his coolness.

He could not remove the suspicion from his countenance, and part of him did not wish to.

Miss Bingley sighed as if resigning herself to their presence, shared a meaningful look with Mrs Hurst, then pasted on a smile that failed to disguise her irritation at being forced to entertain the locals, her sister following her lead.

Gliding towards them with the utmost gentility, she dipped them the merest curtsey and invited them to sit.

While he had been and still was captivated by Miss Elizabeth, he could not help but wonder if she truly was different from the mincing women who often set themselves before him in hopes of winning his fortune.

She had seemed sincere in her efforts to assist him, but did he dare allow himself to trust her?

He was not able to contemplate this for long, as his attention was commandeered by Mrs Bennet’s shrill voice. “You have a sweet room here, sir. I imagine you are as delighted with Netherfield as you were with your new neighbours at the assembly.”

Darcy was not surprised to watch this quarter-of-an-hour social call upon Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst become a surreptitious attempt to gauge Bingley’s impression of the neighbourhood.

“Indeed, I am, Mrs Bennet,” Bingley answered.

“My sisters and I have been quite warmly welcomed into Meryton society, and we could not be gladder of it. Why, in only four days, we have received invitations for suppers, card parties, and luncheons with all the principal families of the village. The Longs, the Lucases, even the militia regiment. I hope you will be attending some of them as well,” he said, his eyes firmly fixed on Miss Bennet.

“We have received similar invitations, sir,” she replied with a sanguine smile.

“Good, good. That shall only add to our enjoyment in them. After the reception we have been given, my sisters and I consider it an absolute obligation to acquaint ourselves with our neighbours, and we hope to form lasting connexions.”

“Well then, allow me to add to your obligations by inviting you to Longbourn Monday next,” Mrs Bennet said with almost a giggle, so enraptured was she with Bingley’s enthusiasm.

Miss Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the invitation, as if unaware of such a scheme until this moment.

He would wager her mother had been equally unaware of it—until having heard of other households full of unmarried ladies entertaining them.

“We would be happy to join you, Mrs Bennet. Would we not, Caroline, Louisa?” Bingley asked, completely oblivious to his sisters’ blatant displeasure.

“Thrilled, I am sure,” came Miss Bingley’s dry reply.

“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith,” said Miss Mary pedantically.

“Indeed, Mary, as we all well know,” replied Mrs Bennet, no doubt chagrined by her use of scripture with their new neighbours.

They had not yet attended church, and Darcy wondered if Mrs Bennet was under the impression that they were a godless lot who would be offended by references to the holy book.

“What a delightful tea service. How hospitable you are, Miss Bingley.”

The tea tray was set before them, and Mrs Hurst was gracious enough to pour for all of them, no doubt eager to have Mrs Bennet’s mouth stopped with Shrewsbury biscuits .

“How tedious these local ladies are,” Miss Bingley said not many minutes after the Longbourn party had taken its leave.

“If one might deign to call them ladies. The insipidity, and yet the noise. Why, I could hardly keep my countenance when the plain one began speaking of preferring a supper of herbs and hating oxen.”

“Who eats oxen?” asked Mrs Hurst in some horror.

“Obviously, these Hertfordshire rustics must, for Mary Bennet has certainly developed a distaste for the beast.”

“I thought it was very kind of them to call,” Bingley rejoined. “And I do not fault Miss Mary for preferring a dish of vegetables. Some people simply do not have the constitution to digest meat, you know.”

Darcy closed his eyes against the urge to groan and inhaled deeply.

Certainly, he had not been enthralled by the wit or conversation of any of the Bennet ladies this morning, but he had not been so insensible as to understand the younger sister to mean she had forgone meat in her diet.

Turning back to his correspondence, he attempted to occlude the ladies’ invectives from his consciousness, but the task proved to be positively Herculean, for Miss Bingley was determined to be heard.

“How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looked this morning,” she cried, turning an eye upon Darcy, clearly hoping to observe his response.

“Very ill,” Mrs Hurst agreed.

He kept his expression neutral and his gaze fixed upon the paper before him, unwilling to snap at the lady’s bitter bait.

“And how she sought to ingratiate herself to you, Mr Darcy, commenting on your character as if you two are such intimates,” Miss Bingley pushed on. “The upstart pretensions! ”

“Miss Elizabeth was of much assistance to me at the assembly,” he finally said, unwilling to hear aspersions being cast upon her character. Even if he was unsure of her trustworthiness, she had done nothing to deserve their censure.

“Undoubtedly she was,” Miss Bingley said, darting him a raised eyebrow.

“I am sure she would like to make herself very useful to the most eligible gentleman in twenty miles. Why, I am surprised she did not divide her time between you and Charles to see which of you was more susceptible to her machinations.”

“I find Miss Elizabeth quite pretty—though I know you do not agree, Darcy—but she is nothing compared to her elder sister,” Bingley said, as if he had been holding in his expressions of admiration and searching for any opportunity to give them voice.

Darcy could have mouthed along with his friend’s next words. “Miss Bennet is an angel.”

Bingley always was attracted to the heavenly, the ethereal, the celestial beauties in any crowd.

“Miss Jane Bennet seems a sweet girl,” Mrs Hurst said in a rare show of generosity towards another of her sex.

“She does not put on airs like her younger sisters,” Miss Bingley observed, “one of whom I would not trust for a kingdom. Be on your guard, Mr Darcy; I should hate to see such a harpy get her claws in you.”

Miss Elizabeth a harpy ? Darcy blinked at the lady speaking to him, amazed at her lack of self-awareness.

He found himself championing the young lady in response. “You have entirely mistaken the situation, Miss Bingley. Miss Elizabeth is engaged to be married.”

“You mean someone has attached himself to her voluntarily ? What could a man possibly see in a woman like that? And with such a mother? I pity the man who is shackled to her for life.” She exhaled a twitter of laughter, her shoulders shaking at her own wit. Louisa Hurst laughed along with her.

Bingley proceeded to defend the Bennets, while Darcy contemplated Miss Bingley’s accusations against Miss Elizabeth.

It was true she was engaged; the farmers’ having asked her for news about ‘that rascal Wentworth’ proved that.

So, what could she mean by thrusting herself upon his notice?

He had not forgotten whose daughter she was, and he wondered if she were only seeking his company to divert herself.

Did she run home to her father and tell him of her triumph, how she had coaxed the proud stranger into conversation and forced him to interact with the local bumpkins?

Was he just an object of amusement for her?

She certainly did not appear insincere.

In fact, Miss Elizabeth had stirred something in Darcy the night of the Meryton Assembly.

He had enjoyed the company of strangers for the first time in his memory.

And it was all because of this unusual woman who did not seem to want anything from him.

He did not know if he dared trust her, but he did know one thing: he was fascinated by her and the effect she had on him.

As she was already spoken for, he risked nothing by furthering their acquaintance. He could not raise expectations in a woman whose heart belonged to another, after all.